


Jealous

by Jemima_Puddleduck



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Jealous John, Jealous John Watson, Jealousy, John is Not Amused, Johnlock - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 00:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemima_Puddleduck/pseuds/Jemima_Puddleduck
Summary: John begins to compete with Irene's text alert noise whenever she texts Sherlock. Shenanigans ensue.





	Jealous

John and Sherlock were relaxing in their armchairs in 221B, recuperating after a long and exhausting case. Sherlock was spread across the chair like a lounging cat, legs hanging over the armrest. He'd stolen John's laptop again, his friend noticed, and was tapping away at the keys lazily. John sat opposite with a newspaper in hand. He took a sip from his steaming hot mug of tea as he read through an article that had the potential to become Sherlock's next case. 

Suddenly, Sherlock's phone let out a lewd moan from its spot on the coffee table. John choked on his tea. Sherlock stared at him sheepishly as he scooped it up, receiving a glare in reply. 

"I'm not attracted to her in that way John. It's just a text. No need to glare." Sherlock frowned. 

"I'm not saying anything." John replied tersely. 

Sherlock began his reply, his fingers eagerly flying over the keys and making John glare even harder. When he put the phone back onto the table, John had a sudden brainwave. He had to wait for Irene's next text, but he was sure it would be worth it.

Less than two minutes later, the moan rose up from the table once more. Sherlock quickly flicked his eyes to John, but his face was obscured by the large newspaper in his hands. Sherlock reached out to grab the phone and the instant he reached for it, another loud moan erupted from the behind the newspaper. John tried not to laugh, silently sniggering behind a copy of The Times as Sherlock blinked, bemused. A few seconds later, John dared to glance and Sherlock. The detective had a strong blush creeping across his cheeks and seemed to be in shock.

"Was that...?" Sherlock began.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." John cut him off, keeping a straight face. 

\---------------------

Two days later, Sherlock was at the critical point of a new experiment. His slender frame was curled over the table, analytical eyes boring into the fizzing test tubes set out on the table. His flatmate was typing away on his laptop, engrossed in composing an account of their most recent case. 

Sherlock was busy scribbling notes in his tattered black notepad when his phone buzzed and let out a sultry moan. He tensed up slightly, listening intently for John's reaction. 

Sherlock still wandered why John acted so jealously towards his conversations with Irene. He was so quick to deny any accusations of being gay and never failed to correct those who referred to he and Sherlock as anything more than platonic. This new reaction certainly compromised Sherlock's original deductions of John being jealous because he couldn't find a woman of his own. He waited for a few seconds with bated breath, waiting for any new data. When none came, Sherlock let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. 

Less than a second later, John's loud moan erupted through the flat. Sherlock jumped out of his skin and his test tube crashed to the floor. A small chuckle from the next room told him John was satisfied and the typing resumed. 

\-----------------

One week later and Sherlock was crouched next to a body, lying spread-eagled in the middle of a dingy back alley of London. John sidled up to him, ready to hear his conclusions, and crouched beside his friend. 

A quiet moan drifted from Sherlock's coat pocket, and his cheeks turned a vibrant scarlet. He didn't think his cheeks could possibly become any redder, but the soft and exquisitely slutty moan from John, right in his ear, proved him very wrong. Before he could say anything, his friend was already across the alley, deep in conversation with Lestrade. 

\---------------

The very next day, Sherlock was making himself a coffee. This act was usually a rarity, but the detective was gasping for caffeine and John was out at the supermarket. Or so he thought. 

John heard the text just as he came through the door into the kitchen. He grasped the opportunity as Sherlock turned away to look at his mobile. The boiling kettle masked the noise of John dropping the shopping bags as he crept towards his flatmate. He let out a long, loud moan directly into Sherlock's ear and was nearly punched for his trouble. The detective flailed wildly and yelled out in shock. He quickly spun around to face John, who was doubled over with laughter. The doctor received a stony glare as his friend regained his composure and Sherlock left for his room without another word. 

\---------------

Two weeks and ten moans later, and the pair were relaxing in Baker Street. Sherlock was spread across the sofa, only half-watching the Bond film John was forcing him to endure. He kept an aloof air about him, but secretly he was enjoying it. He loved to see John this relaxed and the film nights always brought out the best in him. Sherlock watched him fondly as he searched in the fridge for another beer. A few seconds later, his phone moaned on the kitchen table. Sherlock saw John pause, before another moan erupted through the flat. 

Before John knew what was happening, he had been spun around and was now looking directly into Sherlock's intense eyes. He could feel the hard fridge door pressing uncomfortably into his back and he nearly buckled. Sherlock's hand, fisted into the front of his cotton shirt, served to keep him upright as he faltered under the intense stare. 

"You're still jealous of her, aren't you?" Sherlock questioned, his head tilting to one side in his curiosity. John's breath quickened and he gulped anxiously. 

"It's just a bit of fun Sherlock." John protested, trying futilely to escape his bonds. 

"You don't understand." Sherlock mumbled, his deep baritone rumbling through John, all the way to his toes and making him tingle. "The things those noises do to me." 

"Hers or..." John stuttered, still too affected by the shock and Sherlock's close proximity to get the words out. 

"Yours." Sherlock whispered.

He leaned down to take John's mouth with his, finally kissing the man he'd loved secretly for so long. He hoped desperately that his deductions had been right, but the way John appeared to melt under his touch told him everything he needed to know. He hungrily pushed his tongue past John's lips, pushing him against the fridge with a sudden ferocity. John complied, groaning softly as Sherlock dominated his mouth.   

"I'm yours." Sherlock confirmed, pulling back to trace kisses down John's neck. John's eyes blew wide with shock and pure want at the admission. 

Sherlock nipped and sucked at the skin on John's neck, pressing up against him as he did it. John moaned under the ministrations, this time for real. Sherlock broke away to to focus on his lips again, gentler this time. John noted with affection that he was smiling into the kiss.


End file.
